“On these occasions his wife, Melie, another marvel, flies into a fury. She waits for him at the door of the house, and as he enters she roars at him:
“'So there you are, slut, hog, giggling sot!'
“Then Matthew, who is not laughing any longer, plants himself opposite her and says in a severe tone:
“'Be still, Melie; this is no time to talk; wait till to-morrow.'
“If she keeps on shouting at him, he goes up to her and says in a shaky voice:
“'Don't bawl any more. I have had about ninety; I am not counting any more. Look out, I am going to hit you!'
“Then Melie beats a retreat.
“If, on the following day, she reverts to the subject, he laughs in her face and says:
“'Come, come! We have said enough. It is past. As long as I have not reached my limit there is no harm done. But if I go past that, I will allow you to correct me, my word on it!'”
We had reached the top of the hill. The road entered the delightful forest of Roumare.